fellow, and wont to give back smile for smile. It also told Hugh that Tom must have followed him with some purpose in view, for somehow a number of the members of the troop seemed to consider Hugh in the light of a mentor, and often came to him for advice, strange as it might seem, considering the fact that they were all boys.

“Why, hello, Tom! What’s the hurry?” he called out, as the other scout drew near.

“Let me get my breath a bit, Hugh, and I’ll tell you,” panted Tom, which fact seemed to prove that he must have run quite some distance in order to overtake the scout master.

Possibly his mind being so filled with the idea of town improvement and the contemplated uplift movement, Hugh immediately began to wonder if the agitation of his boy friend could spring from anything he had learned bearing on this subject.

At any rate, he would soon know, for Tom was getting his breath back again. He looked confused, almost ashamed, Hugh thought. There was an expression amounting to positive pain on his face, and it also showed in the way he eyed Hugh, as if he hardly knew where to begin.

They leaned against the nearby fence, as boys are wont to do when talking. Presently Tom broke the silence.

“Of course, you’re wondering what under the sun I’m going to say, Hugh. I can see it in your eyes. Well, I had made up my mind to ask your advice the very next time I saw you, because I happen to know you’ve managed to get a number of other fellows out of bad holes before this.”

“Well, you’ve certainly got me guessing good and hard, Tom,” said Hugh, with a smile of encouragement. “But if there’s anything I can do to help out, tell me what’s gone wrong now.”

Tom drew an extra long breath.

“The fact of the matter is, Hugh, I’m worried about Benjy, and as I haven’t any father to go to, and women don’t understand boys as well as men do, I hardly knew who to talk it over with till I happened to think of you.”

Hugh was immediately interested, though at the same time relieved to know that Tom was not in any trouble on his own account. Benjy Sherwood was the younger brother of Tom, a bright, aggressive sort of boy, whose faults possibly lay along the line of wanting to have his own way most of the time.

“What’s he been doing to bother you so, Tom?” Hugh asked, quietly and soothingly.

“Why, you know that Benjy is a pretty high-spirited boy,” began Tom. “I’ve tried to check him several times, but he just won’t listen to me, and in so many words gives me to understand he knows his own business, and that I’d better attend to mine.”

“Oh, but that’s generally the way with younger brothers,” said Hugh. “Lots of the fellows will tell you that. So far as I’ve seen, Benjy is no different from the rest. It’s too bad he hasn’t a father, though, because as you said, I believe a man can control such high-spirited boys a lot better than most mothers, who don’t exactly understand how a boy feels.”

“Well, here’s the way it stands,” continued Tom confidentially. “Benjy has been giving mother and me more or less anxiety by going with several fellows that I don’t approve of at all. I happen to know he’s been smoking cigarettes. I didn’t dare tell mother. She has such a silly dislike for tobacco in every shape, you know. Worse than that, I’m afraid Benjy has been led into playing cards for money.”

Hugh shook his head as though worried at hearing this.

“What reasons have you for saying that, Tom?”

“Several,” the other immediately replied. “For one thing, I found part of a burned card in our kitchen stove one day not long ago. I supposed Benjy discovered he had it in his pocket, and wanted to destroy it before some one found it on him.”

“That might be so,” Hugh mused, “and then again he might have had some better reason for wanting to get rid of the cards. Perhaps he’s realized, that he was doing something that would grieve his mother, and so made a clean sweep of things.”

Tom sighed.

“I only wish I could believe that, Hugh. I’m a whole lot afraid Benjy doesn’t give up things he likes so easily. Then there was another suspicious circumstance. I’ll tell you about it, Hugh. Just three days ago I found that Benjy had gone and opened his little savings bank at home, in which I knew he had something like three dollars, which he had been laying up towards his summer vacation down at the seashore. When I asked him what he had done with the money he got red in the face, and told me hurriedly that the money was his, and he guessed he could do what he pleased with it.”

“And you fear he has used it to pay some debt he owed over the cards—is that it, Tom?” asked the scout master, secretly afraid lest there might be some truth back of Tom’s declaration.

“That’s what flashed through my mind, Hugh,” the other confessed; “and, oh, you can’t understand how it’s worried me! Why, I’ve laid awake nights since then wondering what I could do to save poor Benjy. In spite of his high temper, he’s a fine boy, if I do say it myself, and I love him with my whole heart and soul. Mother almost worships him. You know he looks so like father! And, Hugh, the idea struck me that perhaps you could think of some way we might make him change his habits.”

Hugh would not have been human if he did not feel highly complimented by this blind faith that Tom Sherwood seemed to feel toward him. At the same time, it added to the burdens he was bearing; for as assistant scout master, with Lieutenant Denmead, the regular official head of the troop, away from town so often, it seemed as though Hugh had more than his share of trouble.

“I’ll do all I can to help you out, Tom,” he said. “Perhaps I may find a good chance to talk with Benjy, and get him interested in the scout movement, for he’s really old enough now to think of joining the troop.”

“If you could only do that, Hugh, I’m sure it would make a great difference,” Tom hastened to exclaim. “Joining the scouts has been a good thing for thousands of boys all over the country. They are put on their honor. No fellow can subscribe to the twelve cardinal rules of the organization with his whole heart and still do things that he would be ashamed to have his folks at home know. I hope you can coax Benjy into joining. I tried it once or twice, but somehow he didn’t seem to enthuse worth a cent. But there’s Benjy coming down the street right now. Guess I’ll be going.”

“Leave it to me,” said Hugh, as he shook hands with Tom, who was turning away. “I’ve had some experience in approaching fellows who pretend to scoff at scout doings, and perhaps I can manage Benjy. I’m glad you spoke to me, Tom. Be sure it’ll go no further. So-long! Meeting to-morrow night, remember!”

CHAPTER III.
“STRIKE WHILE THE IRON IS HOT!”

Hugh made up his mind, on the spur of the moment, that it might be unwise for him to attempt anything at once. He wanted a little time to think things over, and lay out some plan of campaign, for Hugh did not, as a rule, believe in doing things hastily.

Besides, Benjy must have noticed him talking with Tom, and would immediately jump to the conclusion that it was a conspiracy between them. The result would be disastrous for the success of any future missionary work.

When Benjy came face to face with Hugh, the latter spoke pleasantly. He noticed that the boy colored up, and, although he